The ringing of my ears quiets with the memory of your taste. The tears seem to retreat at the thought of your eyes, your smile, your face. And the will of dotted lines following our path to meet at a border between us, both figuratively and literally, is how I have expended my hope. Bread crumbs of longing on a path I will choose not to follow back. Abandoning the end of my rope. Left there like constellations of my desire for you once more. My desire that you are behind every door that I open these days. Every turn of the confusion of this maze. Your words whispered, over and over, in my ears as a strength I need to face the years that I may or may not get to be in love with you.

I love you, you know?

As true as anything above or below. Your smell remains on my bed. Growing faint, but there. The smell of your sex on my sheets. Asking me do I dare? Do I dare?

And I do.

For I know, for sure, that I belong to you. Through and through. And the confusion lies in the longing of my soul, trying to decipher the feeling of your absence, so new. But I remain true. To my labors and love. My hope that things will rise above the way they are to a new hope of what we can be. And the start of it is you without me. My hand lingering on the corner every new page. Turning each one at the start of every new day. Ready to be on my way. To start a new chapter. To read the parts again and again that describe your laughter. Those times we shared when my bed was a safe place for you. I wanted to walk with you. Now I must settle for beside you. When in truth. My waking hours I long to be with you. My sleeping hours, inside you. I can recreate my fury. I can recreate my pace. I need only to hear that you love me. As the starting gun of this race. Let'’s figure it out. Your mind is so sharp. It can always find a solution. My mind is my heart that always manages to draw the wrong conclusion. Your skin was like fire on the coldest of nights. My hand melting into it as if made of ice. I wait to be branded again. Pressing my body to yours. Seeing the wetness traced between us as we create a temple behind close doors. Hand fulls of hair. Breathing ragged gulps of air as we moved towards sleep in each others embrace. Admiring that lingering smile on your face. And these moments all leading to a powerful realization of your trust. Your rest. The story of our love was one ending I couldn'’t have guessed. But we are far from the end. The story is just a twist in the conclusion of me and you. And no one know for sure what to do. We just think back to our favorite lines of it.

"“At any given time either one of us is doing the best we can."

And yes. We can. Should you choose it. Let'’s touch the side of every piece of the puzzle and match them face down. Revealing the picture to our own surprise when it is finished and turned around. Neither knowing what it might be; only knowing it was begun and finished by just you and me. Our hands. Our time. Our way. As we write a new chapter at the start of this day. So, Love? Can I put your name next to mine at the top of the page?

¶ 11:16 PM